


I'm (H)appy, (E)lated, (L)aughing, (P)erfect

by hoywfiction



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Phil is sad, Phil pines after dan, Phil self harms, but let's be honest it's always the happiest ones who are having hard times with life, idk I see too many of these where it's dan who self harms, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoywfiction/pseuds/hoywfiction
Summary: Phil can hide anything with a laugh and a smile. Anything at all.





	

_Take a deep breath, Phil._ He followed his own instructions, gently exhaling before opening his eyes. He stared himself down in the bathroom mirror, the water dripping from his hair masking the tears on his cheeks. The steam trapped in the room tinted his skin pink, camouflaging the red of his eyes. There was the one thing, though, the one part that he would truly have to hide. So he dried himself off, patting gently at certain parts of his skin, before pulling on his clothes; black jeans, loose long sleeve, probably Dan's originally though he'd lost track of where it came from.

He glanced back into the shower, reaching in and plucking four slim pieces of metal from the small shelf built in. He placed them in his pocket before retrieving the bent and mangled razor blade head from the shower floor, wrapping it tight in tissue before tossing it in the bin. He'd swore to himself he'd stop, he knew he had to stop... He couldn't, and as he felt the edges of the blades poking him through the material of his pants pocket, he didn't think he would.

"Finally done Phil?" called Dan from down the hall, a teasing but loving edge to his tone. He stared in the direction of his voice, a hurt and longing deep in his blue eyes.

"Yeah, just getting dressed," he called back in return, voice perfectly even despite the new tears starting to collect in his lower lashes. He scrubbed out his hair, shaping it lazily with his fingers before looking himself in the mirror once more. He looked frail, broken. He wondered if others could see it or if he only saw it because he knew.

He was consistently happy, smiling, laughing, never seemed upset (or if he was, not for long). He laughed some under his breath, feeling his throat tighten as he dabbed his eyes with his bath towel. He at least seemed happy to everyone, and maybe he really was happy, but there was always what was beneath. The dark thoughts and overwhelming desperation, so thick he felt like he couldn't breathe at times. He hissed as he turned to throw the towel over his chair and his waistband chaffed his hip, and, wincing, he pulled the band down and lifted his shirt. Angry red lines littered his pale skin, some beading now with blood. He swallowed, grabbing some tissue and pressing it against the wounds until they dried.

There were many more, mostly on his stomach, hips and thighs. He just couldn't let Dan see, couldn't let Dan know... Phil needed help but that was just the thing with depression, wasn't it? You closed out the people who mattered most when it came to the things that were hurting you the most. You felt like a burden, an inconvenience... Phil was an inconvenience. Or at least he would be if he didn't keep pretending like everything was perfectly alright, and he would. He always did.

"Coming?" he heard Dan ask, and Phil swallowed before forcing a smile to his reflection, one that heavily contrasted the pain behind his eyes.

"Yeah," he said, tossing the bloodied tissue and placing his waistband gently back on his hip, hiding the blades under a book before going out into the living room seeming perfectly fine. But Phil wasn't fine, he knew he wasn't fine, even as he sat beside Dan with his massive bowl of popcorn and laughed when they started tossing pieces at one another. He knew he wasn't fine, but he didn't know what to do other than pretend he was.

"Is that mine?" Dan chuckled as the popcorn war died down, neither of them paying much mind to the movie playing in the background, using it more for background noise. Phil looked down at the article of clothing in question, shrugging and giving a goofy grin.

"Probably," he admitted, wrapping the sleeves around his hands.

"You're adorable," the younger lad said, looking back to the telly as he pushed a piece of popcorn between his lips. Phil's eyes lingered there a few beats longer than they should have, his heart fluttering. But then it was a shot of pain through his side, and he had to bite the gasp between his teeth and resist every fibre that wanted to flinch away. Instead, he looked at Dan, who had an eyebrow raised at him. "You okay? You were fuzzed out."

"Just thinking," he said, smiling like he meant it.

"What about?" Dan asked in return, and Phil's stomach churned at how he turned towards him, gave him his full attention, put his interest in whatever he may say.

"Do you think dragons and dinosaurs lived at the same time and had wars over which was better?" The brunette cracked a grin, looking away from him before beginning to laugh, his shoulders shaking with his head as his dimples came through. Phil may have had a strange mind, but he knew he was smart. It helped him think of things quickly... It helped him hide the reality of what was happening with him.

"What the hell," Dan said, looking back at his best mate. And Phil felt the weight being lifted from his chest as he watched Dan's smile, listened to Dan's chuckling, saw the love in Dan's eyes. But then when Dan stopped, when the colour drained from his face and concern filled his features, the weight almost became heavy enough to kill him. "Phil... What's that?"

He knew the answer already, but still he looked down at his stomach, where he'd been poked earlier. There wasn't a lot of blood, but there was a distinct line, just above his right hip. "Oh, um... Dunno. That's weird."

"Did you catch yourself on something?" Dan asked, reaching over to touch. On instinct Phil shrank away, and he knew he'd fucked up once he noticed Dan's hand freeze. He wouldn't look him in the eye. "Phil... What's wrong...?"

"Nothing." A lie.

"Phil." He couldn't take the worry in his voice.

"Dan please—" He couldn't let him know.

"Let me see." He couldn't.

"Don't touch me!" He couldn't see how broken he was.

" _Phil!_ " No!

" _I'M SORRY_!" And he suddenly couldn't stop crying, cowering in the corner of the sofa, breath being ripped from his lungs. Dan stared with wide eyes, but only for a moment before gathering Phil up in his arms and holding him against his chest.

"Phil, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he said into his hair, his own breath shaky as the older lad cried against his t-shirt. His world was shattering down in his head, crumbling to pieces. Just like the person he loved the most in this world, the person who'd been needing help and yet had gone unnoticed. "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm so sorry."

Phil coughed after he heard that, wretched sobs escaping his lips as his hands balled against Dan's chest and he melted into his embrace. "I love you," he managed to choke out, heart breaking despite the words.

Never in his life had Dan thought he'd have to fear losing Phil, but now, it was his worst nightmare and his only fear. "Don't leave me."

Phil froze, like he was shocked at the statement. "I won't—"

"Promise?" Dan demanded, fingers gripping Phil like he may dissapate into thin air at any moment.

"I... Y-Yes," Phil breathed, tears staining his best friend's shirt. Dan swallowed, burying his face into the crook of Phil's neck before starting to cry himself. He had to stop, he decided, holding the younger boy. He would stop, he'd stop for him. Because even if Dan never loved Phil the same way that Phil loved him, he'd always be the love of his life.

"I love you," Dan whispered quietly against his throat, his lips ghosting over his skin. He sniffed, then said it again. "I love you... I love you..."

He couldn't scare him like this, he couldn't put him through this pain. So Phil clung to him tight and pressed his lips against his cheek, not quite a kiss, nothing so obvious. Just contact so he could feel his promise. "I'll never leave you, Dan."

He swore that was a little smile he felt against his neck. And, one more time, he felt the words pressed to his pulse: "I love you."

He could beat this. He would.


End file.
